


Cowabunga, Dude!

by springsnow



Category: Professional Wrestling, World Wrestling Entertainment
Genre: Anal Fingering, And Mark Is A Horny Bottom, Barebacking, Begging, Blow Jobs, Creampie, Dirty Talk, Finger Sucking, Hair-pulling, Loud Sex, M/M, Masturbation, Noam Is A Smartass, Other, Rough Sex, Sexual Fantasy, Spanking, Teasing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-13
Updated: 2019-06-13
Packaged: 2020-05-02 14:13:16
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,238
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19200511
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/springsnow/pseuds/springsnow
Summary: Back in his room, Noam has a good, hard...think.





	Cowabunga, Dude!

**Author's Note:**

> Rewatched Mark v. Noam round two the other day and couldn't stop thinking about this. Normally I wouldn't dream of writing Noam as a top, but I loved the idea of him being all cocky and self-assured in bed with a much subbier Mark. I'll admit that tagging this as Mark/Pete and Pete/WALTER is cheating, since there's no action from either of those pairings involved, but I hope you enjoy regardless.

Noam sighed as he leaned back against the pillows, flicking through the TV channels. Nothing worth watching, but when was there? He’d stopped off at the bar for a couple of drinks, waiting to see if Andrews would show his face, but alas—nothing. He’d probably scampered back off to the hotel room he was sharing with Dunne to wait for his boyfriend to finish having the shit kicked out of him by Walter. A shame, really. Noam could’ve bought him a drink or two—he was a gentleman, after all, or tried to be—and listen to him talk about pop-punk or skating or whatever. Tell a few jokes, make him laugh, let the tension between them slowly dissipate.

And then, Noam thought with a smirk, he could take him back up to his room and give him the fucking of his life.

He switched the TV off and unzipped his jeans, pulling his cock out. He gave it a few tugs as he thought about Mark’s body: nice, toned chest and stomach, thick thighs, and god, that _ass_! Pete was one lucky bastard, getting to fuck that every night. He imagined Mark kneeling on the floor in front of him, looking up at him with those big puppy eyes, mouth open, tongue hanging out, waiting for Noam’s cock.

He gave his cock a quick squeeze and began stroking himself as the fantasy developed in his head. He’d grab Mark by the hair and guide his cock into his soft, wet, hot mouth, and Mark would wrap his tongue around the head and suck eagerly. Noam would keep one hand in his hair, anchoring him there, maybe fuck his throat a little. Let him get a good taste.

 _You like that, aye?_ he’d say, a little breathless, and Mark would moan and nod. He’d slide his cock out then, replace it with his fingers. _Aye, that’s it, get them nice and wet,_ he’d say. _Because they’re going in your ass next._

Mark would be moaning, muffled by Noam’s fingers, his cock hard between his legs. He’d get Noam’s fingers all lubed up with spit, and then Noam would pull him up onto the bed on all fours, getting up on his knees behind him. He bit his lip and tipped his head back as he imagined Mark naked on all fours, presenting that beautiful arse to him to be fucked. He’d slide his fingers inside of Mark, fucking him a little with them, getting his tight pink hole nice and loose and ready for his cock.

 _Is this what you want?_ he’d purr, leaning down to whisper right in Mark’s ear. _You want a big hard cock in your tight ass?_

 _Yes,_ Mark would reply. Noam would tut softly in his ear and pull back to spank him, hard, making him cry out and pitch forward.

_Ask nicely, Mark._

_Yes, please?_

Noam would spank him again—harder this time, making him wail. His cock twitched at the thought of Mark’s gorgeous arse all red from being slapped, tears beginning to well up in his eyes. He drizzled some more lube onto his hand and began jacking himself a little faster, heels digging into the mattress.

 _You can do better than that,_ he’d say, tangling his fingers in Mark’s hair and pulling, hard, drawing more delicious noises of pain and desperation from his throat. _How about ‘yes please, Noam, I want your big hard cock inside me’?_

_Yes please, Noam, I—I want your big hard cock inside m-me._

_Good boy. That’s better._

He’d slide inside of him in one go, making him cry out and arch, still keeping a firm hold on his hair. He’d spank him a few more times, just for good measure, before he started pounding him. He grunted and gripped the bedsheets with his free hand. Fuck, this was hot. No substitute for the real thing, of course, but close enough.

He’d be loud. Loud enough for the neighbours to starting banging on the wall, probably, but they’d carry on regardless, Mark wailing and moaning and screaming as Noam pounded his perfect arse hard, telling Noam how much he loved his cock inside him and how much better he was than Pete—well, maybe Noam was getting a bit self-indulgent there, but hey, it was his fantasy. And who was to say he _wasn’t_ better than Pete in bed? He was certainly a lot better-looking than that snaggle-toothed caveman.

Noam leaned forward, his breathing growing ragged as he pumped himself harder and faster. He was close now. He stopped briefly to wrestle his shirt off—cum stains were a bastard to wash out—and tossed it aside before going back to jerking himself. He grunted loudly as he felt his orgasm building in his straining balls, and finally shot off in his hand, moaning and gasping. He imagined coming deep inside of Mark, then pulling out to watch his seed dripping out of the Welshman, and grinned dopily to himself.

He didn’t know how much time had passed before there was a knock at the door. He wiped his hand on a tissue, tucked himself back into his jeans, and crossed over to the door to open it.

It was Andrews.

“Thought you’d run off to cry on your boyfriend’s shoulder,” Noam said cheerfully, leaning against the doorframe so that the light in the hallway glinted off his bare abs. Mark’s nose twitched slightly.

“He’s busy,” he said, in a slightly strained manner. Noam wondered if _busy_ was code for _getting his ass smashed by a certain huge Austrian_ , but said nothing. Mark and Pete’s open relationship was no secret, nor were Pete’s dalliances with Walter. It was almost cute, in a way. They could pretend to hate each other all they wanted (and did), but everyone had heard the noises coming from Walter’s room. Noam just wondered how it was physically possible for a man that ridiculously large to fuck anyone without tearing them in half. “That was a dirty trick you pulled, Dar.”

“Ah, that was a good one,” Noam smiled wistfully. “The look on your face, Andrews. Hilarious. Adorable, even.”

Mark scowled and folded his arms, like a wee lad about to throw a tantrum. Noam smirked. “I don’t think it was that funny. I think it was pretty low, actually.”

“Aww, I’m so sorry,” Noam replied. “Please do let me know if there’s anything I can do to make it up to you.”

“Don’t try that shit on me now.”

“But I mean it.” Noam took a step closer to Mark. He didn’t back down, just stayed where he was, even though they were close enough to kiss. “Anything at all, big man.”

The silence was so thick you could’ve cut it and spread it on toast. Mark inhaled slowly through his nose. “Anything?”

“Anything,” Noam said. “You name it.”

Another pause. A smile tugged at the corners of Mark’s mouth. It was mischievous and sly, just the kind of response Noam had been looking for. Mark pushed past him into his room and toed his shoes and socks off.

“And close the door, for Christ’s sake,” he called back over his shoulder as he began to pull off his shirt. Noam grinned wickedly to himself as he closed the door behind him and began walking back over to the bed to join Mark.

This was gonna be fun.


End file.
